Troll Brother

by P. Edward Auman

  Chapter 21

  Marissa and the Going Home Party

  The official weekend had started the next day with Mr. Johansson sitting the boys down in the morning and reviewing what they must accomplish. Sunday was the day to get Little Ricky back. Kile had protested a little at first, since he’d not had another communication, but Mrs. Johansson was taking care of that in the kitchen with her own message to the troll queen as the day got started. When all three had come to an agreed understanding, they joined her there.

  “Please, Sara. May I at least make sure you’re translating it correctly?” Kile asked humbly.

  “It’s alright Kile! It’s here in English too. If she misses anything I’ve told her at the beginning to read it in English too.”

  “Yes, but she may not read English all that well yet. I think I read it best of all trolls now, and I don’t understand everything.”

  Sara wouldn’t relent. “I don’t want you picking through this, Kile. Besides, it’s from one mother to another. She’ll figure out what I mean.”

  After thinking about it for a moment, Kile asked, “Well, may I write a message from myself to go with it?” His troll ears itched in anticipation while he waited.

  Mother and Father looked to one another. As he had with his son, Rick Jr. just nodded and Sara knew he was agreeable to trusting the little troll.

  “Alright, Kile. You write a note, and then let me see it. Okay?”

  He hesitated, finger on his lips for a moment. “Uh…okay.”

  Together they sat at the table writing, while Robert and his father considered on a geographical map how best to get to the cave and provide protection. When Kile was done writing his own message, he joined them, and helped to point out areas of cover.

  “Yes, Kile. But our goal here isn’t necessarily to be as stealthy as possible. I think we need to stay up on top or near the ridges so that if anything…any goblins were to attack we’d have the high ground,” Dad argued.

  “But Mr. Johansson! If you don’t hide and we do find goblins, there will be so many the high ground won’t help you at all. They’ll swarm over us!” Kile retorted.

  “Kile?!” Mom interrupted. “What is this here about guns in your message?”

  Kile looked away from the other conversation timidly. “I…erhm…I want them to know that they should not surprise us or try to meet us in the forest in case…maybe?...we have an accident or something?”

  “I’m not going to have any accidents, Kile,” Rick interjected. “I’m about the best shot in my unit and I don’t have an itchy trigger finger.”

  Kile looked at Robert on the last comment, nose scrunched and eyes wide in question.

  “It means he doesn’t just shoot, he makes sure he has to fire before his finger is on the trigger,” Robert tried to explain.

  Kile still wasn’t sure what the slang meant, but he did understand that Richard Johansson Jr. thought he was going to be pretty careful. But it wasn’t enough.

  “Mr. Johansson? Do you know what trolls look like?” he asked.

  “Don’t they look like you?” Rick shrugged.

  “Not really. I’m…sort of small still.”

  “Alright, I’ll watch out for bigger versions of you,” Rick joked and popped a couple chips into his mouth from the bowl on the table.

  “No…That’s not good enough.” Kile’s expression was intent. “Trolls are very, very much bigger than I am normally. Will you shoot if something bigger than a bear comes rushing at you?”

  “Well, if they come rushing at us we’ll probably want to defend ourselves, won’t we?” Rick looked at Robert.

  The young boy was no help though, because he really wasn’t comfortable with the idea of his father knowing what to shoot and what not to considering his own trepidation when he first met the troll family under the mountain. They were indeed very intimidating. He shrugged in response.

  “No, Mr. Johansson. Trolls charge for more than one reason. It’s true they charge because they’re so big it makes for a pretty strong way to break through a bunch of goblins…or humans. But if we’re being attacked, they may also charge to grab us on a run and carry us away in safety. Think of it like that football game Robert watched. During a retreat or a move mountain trolls practice something that you might call a scoop in your language. They run through pushing past all the enemies and scoop up the smaller trolls. Infants, lady trolls…me. It can be used for a rescue too.”

  “How’s that about charging humans?” Sara asked, listening intently as well.

  “Like football, the players grab the ball and tuck it in close to protect it and run. Trolls will do the same thing. Once, when I’d gotten cornered by a mountain lion, Dronosh came running through the forest and grabbed me. It surprised me and scared me as much as the lion, but just as he tucked me under his arm the lion pounced. I don’t know what happened, but I heard it scream when Dronosh blocked it, and I didn’t get hurt at all,” Kile mustered all the sincerity his awkward football-shaped face could muster. “Both maneuvers, attack or rescue, are scary, but will you know which one my family is making when they come running at us?”

  “Well…” Rick pondered the information, filing it away into his trained mind. “Now that I know, I would not shoot.”

  “Yes!” Kile continued. “But do you know the difference between a Goblin and a Troll?”

  “Well…No. But…Robert’s seen them, hasn’t he? I’m sure we’ll be able to figure it out alright.”

  The troll grimaced. “And do you know the difference between a green Bridge Troll and a Mountain Troll?”

  “Green?” Rick asked.

  “Don’t ask, Dad,” Rob said, then looked at Kile and smiled. “Apparently, Kile is a little prejudiced against Bridge Trolls still.”

  The little troll scowled. “Am not!” He waved his index finger at the parent though anyway and added, “But you can shoot them—they are enemies.”

  “Of whom?” the adult muttered seriously. Rick moved the water cup around between his two hands. “Kile, I can’t say I know the difference, but I am pretty attuned to telling an enemy apart from a friend, so I think we’d be much better off carrying a gun than not carrying one.”

  Kile folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. Ricky Jr. did the same unconsciously. Robert followed suite only slightly more consciously after observing them both.

  “Well…then I guess you better not shoot unless I tell you it’s okay,” Kile mumbled.

  “Agreed.”

  After a moment or two, Sara asked, “What do we do if we run into Goblins on the way back? We won’t have Kile then, will we?”

  Kile started to speak, but then shook his head. “Queen Isabel wants me to come straight back and not go out again until we resolve the situation with the Goblins. I doubt she’ll let me escort you back. Maybe Dronosh or one of the bigger Trolls can go with you, but I wouldn’t count on it, depending on how they’re feeling about everything going on right now.”

  “Yes,” Rick replied, lifting his water to his mouth again. “I wouldn’t want to expose my troop to an unknown while I’m dealing with a threat from a known enemy. I imagine your leaders won’t want to introduce a human situation when they’re busy taking care of a Goblin one.”

  All four sat for a moment, staring down at the map, contemplating.

  Then Robert spoke up. “It’s too bad Marissa couldn’t help us.”

  Sara stopped mid-lift of a cup to her lips. “What would she do?”

  “Well…since she’s part faerie…and she probably knows more about them than we do, she could help us make our way back after we get Ricky.”

  Kile smirked and folded his arms once again. “And you might get to hold her hand too.”

  “Hey! I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

  Mother and Father’s face both reflected that they knew that probably wasn’t entirely true.

  Then a knock came at the front door. I
t startled them all. Junior’s right hand reflexively went to his hip, but of course his weapon was still safely locked in the gun safe upstairs. He felt a strong twinge of guilt when he caught Kile’s look across the table for his knee-jerk reaction.

  All arose from the table, but Mother proceeded to the living room and opened the door. From the opening, still hidden from view, the boys in the kitchen heard a familiar female voice.

  “Hi Mrs. Johansson. I’m here to help you get Ricky home.” As Sara invited her in and she stepped into the room, Marissa added, “And I guess help get your Troll back to his too.”